Today I tried not to think of you. I scanned your words for traces of history; I found myriad threads jumbled from their inception. She stood there with her eyebrow arched, stifling laughter. I am pathetic. As far as my existence is concerned, your emotions will never run strongly enough to spark vocabulary.
I feel fake to the point of repulsion.
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1 comment:
This is beautiful. I wanted to comment when you posted it, but I was afraid.
Is it... about anyone I know?
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